A kitchen filled with the sweet aroma of pie. Dante silently looked up at Yerpi and Raymond.

Dante’s anxiety was understandable. From birth, abandoned by his parents and left to fend for himself, even the maid who had cared for him had exploited the child ruthlessly.

Only Yerpi had ever opened her heart to Dante.

[I just…]

Dante hesitated. Truthfully, he himself was most aware of how strange his obsessive behavior toward Yerpi was.

While following Yerpi everywhere, he had neglected the lessons he once loved so much, acting blindly and without reason.

This anxiety had, in fact, been gnawing at Dante from within. Even when held by Yerpi, the unease never fully disappeared.

But rather than face the invisible, he clung desperately to her presence—after all, the young dragon knew no other way to soothe his fear.

Dante lowered his head gloomily. Today, Dante’s cat-sized body seemed even smaller than usual.

[I just… was scared. Scared that Yerpi might disappear. You’re the only one on my side.]

Hearing Dante say that she was his only ally made Yerpi feel sorrow. But it wasn’t the truth.

Yerpi lifted Dante into her arms and met his gaze. His teary, bright yellow eyes reflected Yerpi and Raymond. And not just the two of them.

“I’m here, and Raymond is here too. And everyone in this castle is on your side.”

The head chef of Growen Castle, the servants and maids, Yerpi’s lady’s maid, and Raymond’s soldiers—all cherished and loved Dante.

They simply didn’t show it as openly because he was a child with deep wounds. Dante looked around.

The head chef and maids who had stayed behind in the kitchen to help make peach pie smiled warmly at him.

No one cast a cold glance toward Dante.

Only now did Dante realize this, blinking blankly. Raymond gently took Dante into his arms. Calmly, he spoke.

“We are family. We already are family. Raymond and I will be your roots. Even if one day you grow up and must leave this place alone, always remember—your home will be here.”

To adult eyes, Dante had appeared like a lotus flower swaying rootless in the wind.

His constant, drifting anxiety stemmed from never having a true home.

Thus, this young dragon needed certainty—needed to believe that the people he cherished would never leave his side.

[Really?]

“Yes.”

To Dante’s trembling voice, one could glimpse the wounds that had yet to fully heal.

Yet the young dragon was growing, even now. The foothold of trust was imprinting strength upon his heart. Hesitation lasted only a moment. Dante nodded firmly.

[Yes! I have a family too!]

No one hates me.

No one will abandon me, and there is a family ready to welcome me back no matter how many times I stumble. For Dante, who had drifted without roots, this was the first moment he felt solid ground beneath his feet.

Still, completely overcoming such deep anxiety would take time. But that was all right—there were people willing to wait for him, no matter how long it took.

He promised himself to start small, to steadily strive for what he could do.

After eating his fill of peach pie, Dante fell asleep early without even having dinner.

Yerpi carried the sleeping child to bed, then stood beside Raymond, gazing down at the peacefully sleeping boy.

Their eyes met. Without a word, they both suppressed their laughter into soft smiles.

Thus, Dante’s day—now filled with the warmth of those he held in his heart—grew deeper into night.

***

After making peach pie together, Dante began to change noticeably, day by day.

The biggest change was that he resumed attending lessons he had previously abandoned. Dante’s initiative to study on his own made him especially endearing.

Another change was that the young dragon had made a friend his own age.

“Master Dante!”

[Lilia!]

It was Lilia, the daughter of a maid. Upon spotting her, Dante hurried over.

The children happily greeted each other and seriously discussed what they would play together that afternoon.

The scene was so adorable that the maids paused their work, eager to watch the innocent moment unfold.

Lilia was a sweet little girl, the same age as Dante.

With two braided pigtails and freckles across her cheeks, the girl had recently moved into the castle from the village to live and stay with her mother, the maid.

Perhaps having been informed in advance, Lilia showed no surprise upon seeing Dante. Instead, she approached warmly and quickly became close to him.

Dante’s daily routine now consisted of finishing his morning and early afternoon lessons, then spending time playing with Lilia.

From the castle gardens, one could often see the two children running and playing among the flower beds.

From a corridor, Yerpi chatted with Raymond and smiled as she watched the children weaving flower crowns.

“Dante has become much brighter. He doesn’t force himself to stay by my side anymore. I’m so glad he’s made a friend.”

“That girl, Lilia, has been a great help. We should reward her mother.”

Of course, this progress was possible only because of the two adults’ consistent efforts.

If something is empty, fill it. Even if it takes time. That was their understanding of love.

After watching the joyfully playing children for a while, Raymond finally added one more remark.

“It’s a relief. I almost had to compete with my nephew for affection.”

At that, Yerpi burst into laughter.

The children, having played happily, returned to the two adults only when it was time for dinner.

Before the evening feast, Dante suddenly became serious.

[Yerpi, Uncle. I have something to say.]

“Hmm?”

The two adults, lifting their utensils, turned their full attention to Dante. After taking a deep breath, Dante finally declared:

[I want my own room!]

Surprised, Yerpi’s eyes widened. Ever since the nursemaid had left, Dante had been sharing a bedroom with Yerpi.

She knew his heart had been healing lately, but she hadn’t expected him to suddenly ask for his own personal space.

It was undoubtedly a positive sign, yet it still made her a little anxious.

“That’s a good idea, but did something happen?”

At Yerpi’s question, Dante hesitated. After much deliberation, the child finally confessed the truth.

[Well… Lilia wants to come play in my room. But I don’t have one. I don’t want to say I still sleep with you.]

“Seems he wants to impress his little girlfriend.”

Raymond, who had been silently listening, chuckled. Dante immediately bristled and strongly denied it.

[It’s not that! I just… feel a bit embarrassed still sleeping with someone at my age.]

Dante lowered his head deeply, his ears drooping. His only prior experience with peers had been at the autumn land social party.

He had played well with the other children then, but they weren’t close enough to meet often.

But Lilia was different. Living in the same castle and growing increasingly close, it was only natural that Dante wanted to make a good impression.

Understanding the child’s feelings, Raymond stopped laughing and gently stroked Dante’s head.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll give orders to clear out your room. Decorate it however you like.”

[…! Thank you, Uncle!]

Seeing Dante’s genuine joy, the adults felt happy too.

The very next day,

Dante’s old room, previously used by the nursemaid, had already been neatly prepared.

Raymond had ordered all the furniture removed, then replaced every item—from the wallpaper to all furnishings—with things chosen by Dante himself.

Within less than a week, Dante’s very own room was complete.

Calm walls with a bluish tint, a low bed tailored to Dante’s size, and beside it, a special chair made just for him to rest.

His favorite board games were stacked neatly inside.

The room’s owner was overjoyed and immediately invited his friend.

“Wow, Master, your room is amazing!”

[Right? Everything here was my choice.]

Dante proudly puffed out his chest, then began excitedly explaining each piece of furniture and the bed to Lilia.

Watching from the doorway, Yerpi stifled a laugh. As she quietly stepped out, Raymond was waiting for her in the corridor.

“Did he like the room?”

“Very much. He was so proud, it was adorable—I had a hard time holding back my laughter.”

“He probably won’t want to leave his room for a while. Good.”

Yerpi smiled softly, covering her mouth.

Raymond gazed down at his wife, then wrapped his arms around her waist. In an instant, the atmosphere shifted.

Within the thickening air, Yerpi caught her breath. A low whisper teased her senses.

“Then shall we go attend to our own matters?”